evil never will.

i.

evil is lying face down
in a tired mess
ready to say my goodbyes
to everybody i momentarily forgot about
because of a poor excuse of a man
who loved with his hands
and the sharp of his knees
who truly cared, he promised,
under the wretched verbal torture.

evil is looking into a mother's eyes,
and seeing all the juxtapositions
of what she has taught me growing up
and what she truly sees
in the ugliness of her own world that she
plasters over reality
like wallpaper.

evil is the days of books and boxes
and the blanket Aunty Lily sewed for me
when i left the country,
over my body as i grip to the floors
to keep hold of gravity
when my mind is gone.

ii.

evil is the faces of people you trust
to not push 6 lines of ketamine into one
when you turn away
and laugh as you slip into the darkest hole of your mind.

evil is growing up to the sound of empty bottles
and a mother's heavy sigh
when your father is home and the only
two conversations with him you remember most
is the telling off for your tattoo three years too late
and when he grabbed you through the door to
tell you to leave.

evil is the lady who plagued your innocent mind
with intoxicated promises
rubbing her irresponsibilities as somebody else's
mother and wife
onto you as you itched to break free
but caged yourself under her surveillance
because of the delicious nothings she had to offer.

iii.

evil has never loved us like we do.

we were confused
for the longest hours,
but from the day our eyes met
and the emotions were on our fingertips,
so vulnerable and ready to be true
and completely pure,
we watched in glorious victory
as our souls danced in colourful waltz
into the throngs of love;
we watched with heavy relief
as evil fell on its arse,
and lost its reign.


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written for the evil never has... competition